by Jane Casey
‘Don’t tell Louise about Chloe.’ The words came out fast, as if what he said was unpremeditated, and he didn’t try to disguise the worry on his face. ‘Please. Not yet. She won’t understand.’
‘If you’re serious about her, and about your relationship, shouldn’t you tell her about it anyway?’
He looked more hopeful. ‘Will you let me tell her in my own time?’
‘If by that you mean immediately, yes.’
‘Great.’ His voice was bleak.
‘It’s not going to be any easier to deal with it if she finds out later.’
‘Except that by then she might have learned to trust me,’ he said bitterly. ‘Which is not the case at the moment.’
‘Good for her,’ I said crisply, and ducked out of the room before he could respond.
I went looking for Louise, to say goodbye. The front door was ajar and I found her outside in rubber gloves and wellies, washing a silver BMW Z3.
‘Very nice.’
‘Thanks, it’s new.’ She blushed. ‘I know it sounds weird, but I suddenly felt that I should do something crazy. Something that Rebecca would have approved of. My old car was far too sensible.’
‘What was it?’
‘A fourteen-year-old Peugeot 306. Navy blue. Very practical.’ She grinned at me as she pulled off the gloves. ‘I mean, I like driving, and I could afford a flash car, so what was stopping me? I sometimes think I’m too careful for my own good.’
‘There’s a time and a place for being reckless.’ I moved closer to her and lowered my voice. ‘But Louise … don’t be stupid, OK? The first time I met you, you were worried about Gil and what he might have done to Rebecca. You need to trust your instincts; you felt that way for a reason. Suddenly you’re letting him get close to you, and it worries me.’
She wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘Do you? Like your friend did?’ She bit her lip and I pressed home my advantage. ‘I’m not saying that Gil killed Rebecca, but he’s not off the hook by any stretch of the imagination, and until I can tell you absolutely, definitely that he wasn’t involved, I’d really like you to stay away from him. He has a history of leaving a trail of damage behind him, Louise, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Whatever he did or didn’t do, he’s bad news, and you don’t need him.’
‘You don’t know him.’ She looked up at me, and there was pure stubbornness in her eyes. ‘And you don’t know me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine.’
I made a snap decision and dug in my pocket for a card. ‘Right. Well, here’s my mobile number. Call me if anything happens.’
‘What are you, my mum?’ She was holding on to the card with the tips of her fingers, as if she wanted to drop it there and then.
‘I’m just worried for you, Louise, and there’s not a lot else I can do. Think of it as friendly interest.’
She looked mildly bemused. Then she smiled. ‘Thank you, Maeve. It’s a long time since anyone has bothered to check up on me.’
‘It’s my job,’ I said simply. And I didn’t want to have to watch Glen Hanshaw conducting an autopsy on Louise too. ‘If you feel threatened at any time, don’t call me. Call 999. They’ll get to you quicker.’
‘I really doubt that’s going to be necessary.’ She was struggling not to laugh. ‘Thanks for the advice anyway.’
I had done my best. I nodded to her before walking away to where I’d parked. As I drove off, I saw Louise standing in the road, watching me go, getting smaller and smaller in my rear-view mirror, until I turned the corner and she disappeared.
LOUISE
I went back into the house, calling Gil’s name as I headed down to the back door to put the bucket and sponge in the garden shed. He didn’t answer me. I checked each room on my way back and found him in the sitting room, on the sofa. He had his arms folded and was staring into space. I sat beside him.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing.’ The tone was a warning. Leave it alone.
I knew it was stupid, but I persevered. ‘Was it something Maeve said?’
‘Who? Oh, the copper. I didn’t know you were on first-name terms.’
‘Since today. And look, she’s given me her mobile number.’ I waved her business card at him.
‘Why?’
‘In case I need to call her to tell her you’ve battered me to death.’ He didn’t smile and I felt my own falter, then disappear. ‘Gil …’
‘It’s not funny, Louise.’ He got up and walked around the room, restless, picking things up and putting them down without really thinking about it. ‘She’s got it in for me. She thinks I’m a violent person.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ I stood up too and reached out to hold his arm, to stop him pacing. He pulled away and glared at me.
‘You don’t understand, Lou. There are things you don’t know about me.’
‘I’m sure there are things you don’t know about me too.’
‘Obviously,’ he said with irritation. ‘But what I’m talking about is serious. At least, it wasn’t, but she made it sound as if it was.’
‘What are you talking about? Look, do I have to ring Maeve up and ask her what’s going on or are you going to tell me?’
‘That’s what she’d like you to do.’ He was back to the pacing. ‘She’s making me tell you – but promise me it won’t affect your opinion of me.’
I spread my hands out helplessly. ‘How can I when I don’t know what it is?’ He shook his head, staring down at the carpet and I tried again. ‘Gil, for God’s sake, stop walking around and tell me what you’re so worried about before I imagine something really dreadful.’
Instead of coming back to sit on the sofa, he folded himself into one of the armchairs, and without looking at me, he told me the sad, stupid story of what had happened with Chloe Sandler.
‘The whole thing was a nightmare, and the more I tried to fix things, the worse it got. Do you know what really bothered me? I couldn’t remember what had happened the first night, the night I supposedly tried to attack her. I was drunk – seriously, really drunk – and I have a total blackout for two hours before and after I was in the flat. No memory at all. There was nothing I could say to contradict her story, and her flatmate’s spin on things, except to say that I’d never done anything like that before, and I didn’t think I was capable of it, no matter how much I’d had to drink.’
‘And the police didn’t believe you?’
‘I think they did.’ He looked up at me for a moment, then back at his interlaced fingers. ‘The guy who was dealing with it as good as told me he thought it was bullshit, but they had to go ahead with the restraining order because his boss was obsessed with them at the time. And I did breach it. I shouldn’t have gone to see her. It was beyond stupid, but I thought we could deal with what had happened like mature adults. I think she felt bad about it too.’ He risked another look in my direction, trying to gauge how I was taking it. ‘Now Chloe really was a birdbrain. Pretty, but a nitwit. Looking back, I think it was just as well it ended when it did. It was just a shame that I ended up with a criminal record.’
He was obviously starting to recover. The wicked glint in his eye was more like the Gil I knew.
‘And you weren’t going to tell me any of this.’ It was a statement, not a question.
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. ‘I didn’t think you needed to know at the moment.’
‘So you were saving it up for the right time. How nice.’ I had turned the sarcasm up to ten; he couldn’t have missed it.
‘I wanted to wait until our relationship was stronger. There isn’t enough trust between us yet.’ He shrugged. ‘And I didn’t think you’d want to hear too much about my ex-girlfriends.’
‘It will be very hard to trust you if I don’t know about your past,’ I pointed out, standing up. ‘I can understand why you didn’t tell me straightaway, but I don’t want to find out anything else you’ve been keeping from me just because
the police happen to know about and think you should share it with me. I’m starting to see why Maeve was so worried for my safety.’
‘She thinks I hurt Rebecca too, because she fell over once. Do you remember when she busted her cheekbone? It was just an accident.’ He shrugged. ‘One of those things. That policewoman can make it look as if I’m the devil incarnate, but she’s wrong about me. And she doesn’t know me. You do.’ He got up and moved towards me.
‘I thought I was starting to know you,’ I admitted, turning away.
‘Nothing has changed.’
‘No. Except …’ I hesitated.
‘Except nothing.’ His arms slid around me and I felt his breath on the side of my face. ‘You know the truth. She doesn’t. And I don’t care what she thinks of me – beyond the fact that it’s a bore to have to explain myself because the Met’s pet giraffe seems to think I’m a threat to you – but I do care about what you think.’ He laid his face against mine and drew me closer to him. ‘So tell me.’
‘I think,’ I said, keeping my voice steady though feeling his body against me was making me shake, ‘I think it would be easier to show you.’ I started to move towards the door and he held on to me more tightly.
‘Show me here.’
I looked over my shoulder at the window. ‘But it’s the middle of the day. Someone will see.’
‘That’s part of the fun.’
I turned to face him, not sure if he was serious. He grinned down at me.
‘Take a chance, Lulu. I dare you to.’
I wanted to say no, but I had a feeling Gil wouldn’t accept it. He was testing me again – testing how far I was prepared to go. Rebecca would have done it without thinking, just because he’d asked, and even then she hadn’t managed to keep him.
In the end, the decision was easy. When it came down to it, I wasn’t ready to let Gil go yet. I made myself smile back and say what he wanted to hear.
‘I never could resist a dare.’
Chapter Eleven
MAEVE
Even though the superintendent had promised me I’d be able to take part in the surveillance operation, there was a tiny part of me that was convinced it wouldn’t be permitted. I sat at the back of the room during the briefing, trying to look inconspicuous. For once I wasn’t the only woman present, and I certainly wasn’t the most eye-catching in my jeans and sweatshirt. The undercover officers fitted the victims’ profile – young, attractive women with long hair. They wore high heels and above-the-knee skirts, party outfits that were accessorised currently, incongruously, with uniform jumpers. The detectives sitting directly in front of me were not put off that the women were their colleagues, but were enjoying a long and speculative discussion about them in terms that made me blush – even though I was used to it and I wasn’t particularly thin-skinned.
The room was overheated and overcrowded, and if the buzz of excitement was tempered by cynicism about our chances of success, it didn’t do much to keep the noise level down. It gave me more than a little pleasure to watch Judd bouncing on the balls of his feet at the front of the room, sweeping the assembled cops with a withering glare while he waited for a silence that didn’t come and his face became redder and redder. Only when Godley himself stood up and raised a hand did a hush come over the group.
‘Right, this is the briefing for Operation Mandrake. You all know why we’re here,’ Judd began. He sounded even harsher than usual, his voice rough-edged with tension. ‘We’re being proactive in our search for the serial killer currently operating in the Kennington area. There is a good chance that he will be out there tonight, according to the profile that Dr Chen has written for us.’
The criminal psychologist was sitting at the front of the room, facing us, her head on one side and her eyes cast down as she listened to Judd. There was a pained expression on her face, which was triangular like a cat’s, with wide cheekbones and a pointed chin. She had painted her small mouth scarlet, like her fingernails, but sat with her lips pressed together so the colour was only visible as a line. I had met her a couple of times, but looking at her across the room, it struck me that I had never actually seen her smile. Her legs were crossed and I wondered what she would make of her swinging foot if asked to analyse her own body language. Dr Chen was not among friends, and she knew it. I admired her for having the guts to sit in such an exposed position, even if I didn’t warm to her as a person.
‘We know that so far he’s been active on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. We are very concerned that he’s likely to be out there again tonight. Obviously, the surveillance teams on this operation are crucial backup for the UCs who are going to be on the streets. You will need to be discreet, but attentive. You’re going out in twos and I don’t want both of you to have your eye off the ball, by which I mean the UC officer, at the same time – no toilet breaks or food runs together.’ Judd looked around the room. ‘Remember, ladies, you’re not pretending to be prostitutes tonight. His victims are nice young girls on nights out, minding their own business. We don’t want to scare him off, do we?’
The UCs looked unimpressed; if this was their first encounter with the chief inspector, he had just told them everything they needed to know about him, i.e. that he had the natural charm of a ten-day-dead mackerel. Judd ploughed on.
‘We’ll have a dedicated radio channel but try to keep communication to a minimum. I’ll have thirteen teams to keep track of, I don’t want you chatting for no reason. The UCs will be using earpieces and covert microphones. The forecast is for rain, but I want you covering your area, not standing in doorways or sitting in the back of the car, please. We know he takes women as they are walking towards their homes or public transport. We also know that he doesn’t move them very far from where he finds them so we believe him to be on foot. Pay particular attention to pedestrians, especially if you see them more than once. Dr Chen tells me he’s likely to spend a lot of time moving around his territory, watching what’s going on before he acts, so we’re looking for anyone who seems to be too interested in what’s going on. Anyone who tries to strike up a conversation with you, ladies, treat them with caution until you are sure they aren’t a threat. This is a violent man who acts quickly and although you might think his MO is reckless, he hasn’t come close to being caught yet so we have to assume that he’s good at what he does.’
Dr Chen leaned forward. ‘May I interrupt? My profile suggests we are looking for a highly competent and controlled individual, someone who is prepared to take calculated risks to achieve satisfaction. He doesn’t exhibit a great deal of sophistication in his methodology, but the level of violence he uses is significant and increasing, and he is highly dangerous. We think he encounters his victims by chance, but that doesn’t mean the murders are the indulgence of a spur-of-the-moment whim. He plans, he prepares, he is confident and he will not stop unless we stop him.’ Her small hands were bunched into fists in her lap and although her voice was soft, her tone was emphatic. I could understand her being tense. Her reputation was staked on the killer being out on a wet, cold night, looking for a victim.
Judd had been waiting for her to finish, impatience in every line of his body.
‘Surveillance teams, please be aware that you might have to take up positions that don’t give you a full view of your designated area. I want you to be careful not to be observed. These are the teams. Listen up. Team one: Pollock and Dornton in the car, UC is Rossiter, and you’re to concentrate on area A, that’s Myatt’s Field and the surrounding streets. Your callsign is TA61. Team two: Elliot and Freebody in the car, UC is Fairchild. Area B. Callsign is TA62.’
I listened idly, waiting to hear my name. When it came, I was somehow not surprised to hear that I was to team up with Sam Prosser, or that the area we had been assigned was the recreation ground where Alice Fallon’s body had been found.
Katy Mayford, the young UC who was supposed to work with us, was not happy. ‘Is there any point in concentrating on areas where he’s already been
? He’s not likely to go back there, is he?’
‘On the contrary,’ Dr Chen said, ‘he’s quite likely to return to somewhere he has been successful – if not to hunt, to relive the experiences of the previous murder. It’s very common for serial killers to return to the scenes of their crimes, particularly if the location holds some significance for them. In this instance, I would expect the killer to derive great pleasure from revisiting the locations in question, particularly since there are still signs of his work visible in some of them – scorch marks on the ground, damaged shrubbery and trees. Don’t forget that there is probably a sexual component to these crimes, even if it’s not immediately clear to us. You should pay close attention to anyone exposing themselves or masturbating in these areas.’
A ripple of laughter went through the room at that and Dr Chen looked irritated. Judd clapped his hands.
‘All right, that’s enough. You heard the doctor. If you see any flashers and perverts, we have a couple of uniformed crews in the area who can make arrests without jeopardising the undercover op. Call it in and leave it up to them, please.’
He went on with the list of teams and locations, carving up the chosen area into neat little parcels. It was a comprehensive operation, lots of resources committed, and even if it was all likely to be a huge waste of time it was effective window dressing. Word would leak out to a friendly journalist about it – no details, just enough to make the task force look dynamic and imaginative. And everyone could go home happy, knowing that they’d done their best, while we did what we couldn’t admit we were doing and waited for another body.
When Judd at last finished, Godley gave us his final blessing in the manner of a high priest officiating at a sacrificial ritual. Once it was over, I got up along with everyone else in the room and shuffled towards the door, intent on making a few final preparations before collecting Sam and Katy and heading out. I was planning to read through the briefing notes somewhere quiet and grab a sandwich. For the detectives who had been in front of me in the briefing, final preparations consisted of a fag, a slash and a cup of vile, bitter coffee, which was all that was available in the South London police station where the briefing had been held. Each to their own.
